


Where We Stand

by vaguesalvation



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaguesalvation/pseuds/vaguesalvation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seunghyun would follow Jiyong anywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where We Stand

Seunghyun knows it’s a bad idea, even as he’s watching Jiyong lie back against the bed, his fingers itching to skate over Jiyong’s bared stomach, to scratch angry red lines into Jiyong’s skin. The light from the bedside lamp casts shadows that make Jiyong appear unreal, sharp and angular where he shouldn’t be. The hotel room smells like cigarettes and dollar-store antiseptic, cheap and used. He wonders for a moment if he should feel offended.

He’s been in this situation before. He remembers taking girls, older, younger, his fans, to dirty hotel rooms and fucking them on sheets that are probably bleached daily. The girls were more than willing, anonymity giving their confidence a sharp edge. But now, here, with someone he knows and trusts and has come to love as a friend and possibly something more over the years, it feels almost wrong.

“You don’t have to do this,” he wants to say, but there’s a familiar spark in Jiyong’s eyes that keeps Seunghyun from saying anything at all.

Jiyong lifts his eyebrows slightly, as if inquiring why Seunghyun is just staring at him. Seunghyun is unable to resist any longer. He brushes the side of Jiyong's cheek and pulls the man's face closer to his.

As their lips touch Seunghyun feels a pull in his abdomen and the familiar feeling of being out of control. At this point he will do anything for Jiyong, an offer he knows the other won't deny.

Jiyong smiles against his lips, reaching up to grip the back of his neck, pulling him in closer. He parts his lips when he feels the tip of Jiyong’s tongue against them, sighing into the kiss and sliding his jacket off his arms. It pools on the floor at his feet and he feels significantly lighter.

He sheds his clothes like he sheds reservations, slowly but finally, and he wraps long fingers around both of Jiyong’s thin wrists. There’s an excitement here that he’s never felt before, that he doesn’t get from those girls. Jiyong is a challenge.

Seunghyun smirks. His perfect teeth are a faint white line under his lips. Jiyong isn’t just a challenge, he’s someone Seunghyun wants. He wants Jiyong more than he has any of the others.

He tugs on Jiyong’s wrists, forcing their bodies against each other. The warmth from Jiyong’s skin catches Seunghyun off guard and he can’t help but to lay his head on the others shoulder. He knows that Jiyong can hear him groan into the toned muscle.

He’d rather it be that way.

He lets Jiyong pull him down, settling between spread thighs. Pressing Jiyong’s wrist into the mattress, he rocks their hips together, needing friction and shivering when Jiyong gasps. He’s heard it before, during hotel nights on tour, when Jiyong thinks he’s asleep and is too lethargic to move to the bathroom but too hard to ignore. He’s never said anything, but he thinks Jiyong knows he’s heard.

But now, he’s the cause; his movements are what fuel Jiyong’s soft sounds. They no longer have to tiptoe around the tension that they’ve been feeling around each other for years. For that fact, he thinks maybe it is fitting this is happening here, where they can escape from their lives for a few short hours. The dorms have too much of them, too much evidence of their lives inside the fame and under the blinding spotlights.

He rocks his hips again and buries his face in the crook of Jiyong’s neck, breathing in dreams and ambition and the faintest hint of vulnerability. His fingers tighten around Jiyong’s wrists and he wants nothing more than to be closer, so much closer, and he wonders if it’s even possible.

“Seunghyun,” Jiyong says, like his name is the only thing keeping them connected. He bites at Jiyong’s neck, rolling the skin between his teeth and earning another gasp.

Jiyong is impatient, wrapping his legs around Seunghyun’s waist and digging his heels into the small of his back. He holds onto this little bit of control, as if Seunghyun would refuse Jiyong anything. But he’s come to accept the need for control not as a flaw, but one of the many traits that has lead them all to the top.

“Fucking—” Jiyong growls, throaty and demanding, “will you just fuck me already?”

Seunghyun smiles. Kissing a path along Jiyong’s jaw, he lifts up enough so that their eyes lock. Jiyong’s eyes reflect fire and a passion he could never hope to rival. His stomach flips and he dips his head to breathe against Jiyong’s lips.

Jiyong groans, frustrated with the teasing. Seunghyun knows he isn’t used to having to wait for anything. He presses a soft kiss to the wrinkle in Jiyong’s brow, satisfied when it disappears and the body below his seems to relax a little. He doesn’t want to rush this. He’s so hard it hurts and Jiyong lets out a small whine that nearly unravels every fiber of his self-control, but he wants this to last, he wants to remember and be remembered.

But when he feels the words Jiyong whispers into his neck, he knows that he won’t be able to hold back any longer.

“Please, Seunghyun… please.”

He chokes on the breath that catches in his throat and looks back down to Jiyong’s eyes.

“Where—” he starts to say.

“In my jeans.”

It feels like an eternity before his fingers close over the short string of condoms and small tube of lubricant. Before he even makes it back, Jiyong is surging forward, tangling fingers in his hair and pulling him down for another kiss. He fumbles with the tube, popping the cap open and spreading some of the lotion on his fingers. It’s a rush of limbs and teeth and tongues, and Jiyong laughs into his mouth when they land sprawled across the mattress.

He has to pull away to rip one of the condoms off the end of the string with his teeth. Jiyong settles back against the pillows again, pulling his knees up until his feet are flat against the bed, and Seunghyun has to remember to inhale.

He leans over Jiyong as he presses the first finger in, needing to see Jiyong’s lips jut out and his eyes close in concentration. It’s beautiful, in that same unconventional way Jiyong always is.

He knows what he’s looking for. He pushes forward, letting the small hitches in Jiyong’s breath as a guide. When he finds it, he knows instantly by the strangled moan that rips from Jiyong’s throat and the fingers that close tightly over his wrist.

“God, fuck,” Jiyong pants, “right there.”

He kisses Jiyong’s mouth to silence his words and presses in another finger. He isn’t sure which of them wants it more. His heart pounds in his chest; it’s almost hard to hear anything over the rush of blood in his head.

By the time all three of his fingers are buried inside, Jiyong is wrecked, his chest rising and falling in a quick, erratic rhythm. Seunghyun just watches for a moment the way Jiyong’s lips work wordlessly, trembling every time he pulls his fingers out just to slam them back in. He grips Jiyong’s leg by the back of the knee and slings the thin limb over his shoulder, reaching up to tear the condom open. He smells sterile latex and sweat as he rolls it on.

“Shh,” he whispers against Jiyong’s temple as he pulls his fingers out for the final time, shifting to position their hips together and running his slick palm over his cock. He could come from just the sight of Jiyong on his back beneath him, arms rising over his head to grip the horizontal bars of the headboard.

Cupping both his hands over Jiyong’s hips, he thrusts in slowly. For a moment it’s all heat and pressure and the sound of skin moving over skin and he’s afraid he won’t be able hold on. He’s seventeen all over again, loosing himself in the tight warmth of a girl in one of the closed off rooms at the studio. Only this time, he knows exactly what he’s doing, and Jiyong isn’t just a nameless trainee. He’s always thought they’ve worked well together.

Jiyong’s eyes are screwed shut in pain for only a few seconds before he opens them, glaring up at him through wet lashes. Another challenge, one that says “You’re not going to break me.”

“Seunghyun,” is all Jiyong has to say and he’s moving again. He doesn’t need to be told to make it hard and fast; he doesn't think he could handle being gentle now.

Jiyong doesn’t try to be quiet now, throwing his head back and moaning loudly every time Seunghyun brushes his prostate.

Spotting the purpling mark on Jiyong’s neck, he dips his head again and sucks at the visible vein. Jiyong reacts almost violently, arching off the bed so that their chests are pressed together and gasping Seunghyun’s name. Fingers thread through Seunghyun’s hair again, holding him down.

Seunghyun reaches between them, fisting Jiyong’s cock. His knuckles rub against Jiyong’s abdomen with every stroke. Jiyong mouths at his ear, whispering and biting and moaning. Then he’s trembling and coming hard in Seunghyun’s hand.

Seunghyun follows him right over the edge.


End file.
